Love's Toll
by lifeandlighters
Summary: Soul mate AU. When your soul mate gets an injury, you get a copy of their scar or bruise, and when your soul mate's a Milkovich, you get more marks than most. based on a tumblr post
1. Video Games

Ian had spent nearly his entire life trying to figure out if his soul mate had a death wish. Every morning, he woke up with a new cut or bruise. It happened to everyone this he knew; When your soul mate got hurt you also got the mark the injury left behind, only it didn't hurt as much. Still, not everyone had a soul mate as violent as Ian did. He began to worry that his soul mate was some kind of hit-man.

Lip commiserated with him. Apparently, his soul mate got into a lot of fights, too. They'd both wake up or be walking and just look at each other. It was unbelievable how many fights two people could get in.

He was able to put it behind him as he got older. He stopped freaking out at every small mark or cut, and just rolled with the punches, almost literally. He was able to not live his life in constant fear. It became an advantage, really. Once he started ROTC, he was more accustomed to pain than any of the others and had a leg up on most of them. Also, ROTC felt like a nice way to get pay back after all that shit his soul mate had put him through. Let _him_ wake up to bruises every morning, hah.

He forgot about the marks, until one day when he was going to bed. He stretched his arm and found a small scar by his elbow. It was in a swirl shape. Ian wasn't sure how long he stared at it, trying to figure out how it could've possibly been made. All he knew was that he fell asleep tracing it, and he'd never slept better.

* * *

Ian wasn't eager to meet his soul mate. He didn't know why. Everyone else always was, but as the years went on, he started to care less and less. That is until Mandy came over one Monday.

They were laying on Ian's bed studying and Mandy got up to get water or use the bathroom or something; he hadn't been paying attention. It was what happened next that made him focus. Mandy stood up and stubbed her toe on his dresser. "Ow! Fuck!" She exclaimed and grabbed her toe. Ian started to laugh, but stopped when Lip walked in a second later and yelled, "Fuck!" He hopped on one foot briefly, and Mandy froze.

Lip stared blankly back at her, "What?"

She shook her head, and walked out. "Can I see your back?" Ian said quietly.

"My back?"

"Yeah, Lip, just do it." Ian stood and examined his brother's back until he saw it. "Mandy!" He called, and she came back.

"What?" She replied, and Ian motioned her over to look at Lip's back.

"What are you looking at?" Lip asked beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Holy shit," Mandy breathed, and they dropped his shirt. Lip turned to face them and Mandy looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"Holy shit, what?" Lip was getting frustrated now. Mandy simply turned around and lifted up her shirt a bit to reveal the Z scar across her lower back. At this point, Ian realised his brother was the stupidest genius ever because he still didn't get it. When he said nothing, Mandy smacked her hand briefly on the dresser.

She winced, and he cried out, and that's when it clicked for him. "Oh... Do you wanna go -uh- talk, or something?" He asked, and she smiled.

"Yeah, okay." She replied softly. They left and went downstairs. Apparently, it was an amazing and enlightening conversation because they didn't stop talking or laughing for a good four hours, and even when Ian told them it was dinner time neither of them made a move to get up.

Ian decided then he wanted to meet his soul mate. He wanted to have that connection. He'd seen Fiona and Jimmy having it for years, but he'd never felt as empty watching them as he did Mandy and Lip.

* * *

It always seems like the biggest events in your life happen when you least expect them to, for example, when you're sitting on your fake-girlfriend's couch playing video games.

Mandy and Ian had been playing Call of Duty for around half an hour when Mickey crashed through the front door, "Douchebags."

"Assface." Mandy replied with a small smile as Mickey walked back to his room. Ian felt the strange urge to go after him, but decided against it. He shook his head and focused back on the game. "Hey, you want a pizza bagel?"

Ian blinked, "Huh?"

"Pizza bagel, you want?" She repeated with more concern.

"Uh, yeah, sure." She paused the game and went to the kitchen to make them. At that moment, Mickey walked back out of the room and plopped onto the couch next to Ian. He reached across the younger boy to grab her controller, and that's when Ian saw it. The small swirling scar on the inside of his left elbow, identical to the one he had. Ian grabbed his arm and looked at the scar.

"The fuck are you doing, Gallagher?" Mickey pulled his arm out of his grasp, and resumed the game. He gave Ian a sideways glance before saying, "You gonna play or what?"

"Yeah, okay," Ian picked up his controller from his lap, and played in a daze. There was no way in hell Mickey Milkovich was his soul mate. No fucking way. Though, it would explain a lot. The constant injuries, marks, and the reason he'd always felt weirdly drawn to the boy no matter how much of a dick he was.

"Mickey, give it back," Mandy said sitting back down.

"Bitch, no way. I'm winning." He raised the controller above his head out of her reach. She struggled for a minute to reach around Ian before getting a familiar gleam in her eye.

"I'll trade you for the pizza bagels." She offered. He gave her a measured look before tossing her the controller, and grabbing the food from her. Mandy snatched two from the plate and handed one to Ian. Mickey debated how worth it it would be to fight for them, and deciding it wasn't he went to his room again.

"Have fun, shitfucks." He called, and Ian snorted.

"So, how's Lip?" Mandy asked shyly. The corner of Ian's mouth twitched up in a smile; Mandy was never shy.

"He's good, I guess." He watched her for a second, "How're things going with you two?" She blushed. "Good?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "they're good. I mean, he's my soul mate, so," she looked at him and immediately cleared her throat, shaking her head, "it's whatever. Doesn't matter."

"_You liike him._" Ian teased, and poked her.

"Shut up. I'm supposed to, punk." They laughed and after a brief moment of silence, Ian stood.

"I'm gonna-uh- use the bathroom."

"'Kay."

He walked down the hall and took a deep breath before opening the door to Mickey's room. He'd barely made it through the door before Mickey called, "Can't you read?" from his place on the bed. Ian knitted his eyebrows and looked at the door. _STAY THE FUCK OUT_ was written on a piece of cardboard in black ink.

"Oh." He said, and stood there for a minute, unsure of what he'd meant to do once he actually got here.

"Can I help you?" Mickey said, annoyance edging into his voice.

"Just, um," Ian rolled up his sleeve and angled his arm toward Mickey. Mickey's eyes flew wide, but he coughed composing himself.

"'M I supposed to know what that is?" He looked at his magazine again.

Ian deadpanned, "Mickey, I saw yours."

"So?" He rose and faced Ian.

"Doesn't that mean I'm your... ya know?"

Hundreds of emotions hit Mickey at once, joy, gratefulness, frustration, sadness, anger. He turned around. "It could mean anything, Gallagher. Now read the sign, and fuck off."

"Mickey..." he started, almost reaching for the other boy's arm.

"What?" He snarled defaulting to the easiest emotion: anger. He turned and stared at Ian, and the hurt expression that now crossed his face. All of a sudden, he wanted to kiss that look away, apologise for being mean. Now, Ian really _had_ to leave.

Ian frowned, "Nothing." And left. When he got back to the living room, Mandy was standing by the front door.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing, it's fine." He snapped, and she raised her hands in surrender.

"Okay, chill. Never mind. You ready to go?"

"Yeah." He followed her out, casting a brief glance to Mickey's room, before shutting the door behind them.

* * *

Mickey sighed, sinking to the bed. So, it _was_ Gallagher. He was royally fucked.


	2. Behind Closed Doors

**A/N: Depression and mentions of self-harm and abuse (neither are described)**

Ian tried not to think about Mickey for weeks. He didn't want the hurt. He didn't want the frustration. But goddamn it, no matter what he did every thought circled back to him. He thought about every aspect of the Milkovich boy's face, personality, life, listing pros and cons of putting effort into this. After a while he'd get tired of that and he'd just think about his face, his smile, his eyes, his lips, his hands...

Fuck.

Mickey Milkovich was his soulmate and there was just no getting around that. He wanted someone to talk to about this, but he didn't want to freak Mandy out, Lip was super busy with school and making money, Fiona was just way too tied up with running the house and working, not Debbie, not Carl, definitely not Frank, Jimmy didn't know Mickey well enough to really help. It looked like, at least for the moment, he was going to have to sort this out on his own. Unless, he talked to V. Yeah, V. That's a solid choice.

* * *

The next day he went over the Kev and Veronica's house to try to find her. She had been talking about how she was sick and couldn't work for a bit, so he hoped he wouldn't be bothering her.

He walked into the house, "Veronica?" He moved into the living room. "Yo, V!"

"Is that a Gallagher I hear?" She yelled as she made her way down the stairs. "Ian! Well, that's a surprise. What's up, baby? Did Fiona run out of cough medicine for Debbie again because I can't get any until-"

"No, actually, I just came here to talk. If that's okay?" She looked briefly taken aback, but that was soon replaced with happiness.

"Okay. What's going on? Is this a sit down conversation?"

"Uh..." He began.

"Actually, doesn't matter because I'ma sit down anyways." Ian chuckled and sat down opposite to the couch she laid down on.

"Okay, so there's really no better way to start than I found out who my soulmate is."

"Oh, that's great, honey!" He raised a hand and she an eyebrow.

"It's Mickey Milkovich."

She shot up straight on the couch, "What!" He nodded. "Mickey Milkovich, like ghetto, punk ass, Dirtiest White Boy in America, Mickey Milkovich?"

"One and the same." He replied.

"Holy shit..." She relaxed back into the couch again, and he gave her a pained look.

"V, I don't know what to do."

"Oh, sweetie, come here." She stretched out her arms and he sat on the edge of her couch.

"Like I tried talking to him, but what the hell's that gonna do? I don't know what I expected. Fuck if he was gonna just become some sweet, kiss you in the middle of a crowded room, strokes your hair guy, right?" He sighed and held the hand that she had left for him to hold.

"I know, but look if he's _your_ soulmate, that means there's gotta be something there, huh?"

He nodded, "I guess..."

"So find it. You gotta figure out why the _fuck_, _Mickey Milkovich_ is your soulmate. The universe or God or whatever the hell's out there doesn't make mistakes. You know when I found out Kev was my soulmate I was so mad?" He turned to her shocked. "Yeah. I was so angry. I was like damn it why isn't it some rich ass, lawyer dude or hell, a black guy?" She laughed. "But everyone knows that we're made for each other. I know that; he knows that. I couldn't be happier. It just took some getting used to and going with the flow."

Ian gave her a look, "Yeah, but Mickey Milkovich does not 'go with the flow.' He's gonna punch me if I try to talk to him about it again."

She sat up and looked at him, "Maybe, but maybe you're gonna be the one who wakes him up and brings out that sweet guy you were talking about. There's gotta be a reason he's the one. It might take days, weeks, or even years, but he'll figure it out. You both will. You just need to keep trying. Just because you're soulmates doesn't mean your relationship's gonna come easy. Look at Fiona and Jimmy, they've got so many issues, but they're trying to make it work."

Ian smiled, "Yeah, okay. Thanks, V."

"You're welcome, honey. Now, help me to the bathroom 'cause I'm gonna puke."

* * *

Ian fucking Gallagher... shit. Mickey did not need this right now. He didn't need more pain. He didn't need another reason to feel empty inside or to hurt in a way that couldn't be fixed with ice and a band-aid.

Everything was so shit in his life, and now... Now, he'd fucked up the one thing he'd hung onto since he was a kid. Seeing his mom and dad, and his aunts and uncles together, the hope of finding his soulmate had kept him going through all the bullshit and misery. Kept him going after his mom died. Kept him going through the nights when Terry came home drunk and swinging. He just thought about his soulmate, and how, for some reason, finding him was gonna make it all better.

But knowing his soulmate was gonna be a he and not a she sometimes made it worse. He thought about his brothers and his dad, and all the times he and they'd all gone out fag bashing. He hit harder than all of them. He wanted to get that part out. He didn't want to be gay. He didn't want this for his life. His dad just thought it was because he was a kid after his own heart. He'd congratulate Mickey and tell him how well he'd done, and Mickey would feel sick to his stomach. But he'd fake a smile and crack some joke, and get on with his life. He'd just move on, but the thought of them bashing on him and the whole family casting him away, that kept him up at night, that was something from which he couldn't just "move on."

However, a soulmate's not something you can just walk away from. His dad had learned that the hard way; Mickey watched it happen. His mom walked out and his dad was never the same. There was something he lost that day that he never got back. He knew his dad was in pain, and that's why he lashed out. That's part of why Mickey and his siblings just took it. They hurt when mom left, but when your soulmate leaves... it fucks you up. In your soul, and in your body, it fucks you up.

Mickey knew he needed to fix things with Ian, but things weren't fixable. Would Ian even talk to him after how cruel he'd been? He'd been so mad; he supposed because part of him hoped he wasn't going to be gay and that his family wouldn't try to kill him once they found out. He'd also been mad because he knew Ian. He knew how wonderful and perfect he was, and how could he ever love someone as fucked up as Mickey? It just wasn't possible.

That was the pain he took to bed every night and carried each day. The numbness in his body was overwhelming, and each day was worse than the one before.

* * *

Ian woke up the next morning feeling better with what happened with Mickey. Veronica had reassured him and he finally felt somewhat at peace with the situation. He knew now why Fiona always went to her for advice.

Suddenly, he realised that something was off. He sat up and looked around the room. His brothers were fine, there was no noise from downstairs, but that's when he felt it, a sharp stinging on his wrist, "Fuck," he pulled at the sleeve, and when he looked down the world, around him seemed to freeze. Several ragged, small scars lined his left wrist, and he knew he hadn't put them there. "Oh, Mickey..."

He gathered himself and got dressed. Once he was ready, he walked over and shoved Lip. "Hey," Lip's only reply was a grunt. "Hey, assface!"

"Ian? What the fuck?" Lip grumbled, blinking hard.

"When she wakes up tell Fiona, I'm going to Mandy's."

"What? At," he looked at their clock, "5 AM?"

"Yeah, I'll see you later." He was on his way out the door when he heard Lip hop down from his bed.

"I'm coming with you. Sleeping in Mandy's bed is better than sleeping alone in mine."

Ian smiled, "'Kay."

* * *

"Mandy's going to be pissed. She doesn't wake up before 8 unless there's some kind of emergency."

"And how would you know that?" Ian joked.

"You miss a lot when you're off in your own little world, bro." He cast Ian a sideways glance. He'd been worried about him lately; he'd been acting really weird, and out of it.

"Actually, I'm not going to see Mandy."

"Iggy?"

"Nah, Mickey."

"Okay..." Lip trailed off, wondering what he could possibly have to discuss with Mickey of all the Milkoviches. But they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Ian jogged up the steps to the Milkovich house with Lip close behind. He thought about knocking, but decided it was better to only wake up two of the family than all of them. Besides Terry was way less scary, if he came at them, in the morning because he moved slower. He usually wasn't even up before noon after drinking himself to sleep.

They entered the house slowly finding it empty and light only by the grey light of early morning. Ian was about to point Lip to Mandy's room when he saw him already making his way in. Apparently, things really had changed. Now, he walked down the hallway to face the door to Mickey's room. He stood there for a minute, knowing that he had to go in, had to do something, but he had no clue what to say. He hadn't thought this through.

He clenched his fists, then slowly opened the door. It only made a slight creak. Ian had sort of hoped that that would wake Mickey up so he wouldn't have to, but he realised in a house like his, with all the yelling and noise, Mickey could probably sleep through anything.

He crossed the room to stand beside his bed. He hoped once he woke him, the words would come easy. "Mickey," he jostled him slightly. "Mickey!" He whispered louder.

"Mick!" He said in a normal tone.

"Whoever that is better have something real good to say 'cause-" Mickey turned his head, and found Ian, and his sentence was cut short. "Gallagher? What're you doin' here?"

"I saw them." He said plainly.

"Saw what, Firecrotch? It's fucking 6 AM. Don't be cryptic and shit." Mickey rolled over and sat up to face him. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were heavy from sleep, and he found himself becoming very self-conscious all of a sudden. Little did he know, Ian was certain he had never seen a sight more beautiful.

"The scars... on our wrists," he said quietly. Mickey felt very awake, now, and if he hadn't been self-conscious before he certainly was now. He tugged slightly at the sleeve of his shirt.

"What about 'em?" He knew he couldn't brush it off, but you can be damn sure he was going to try.

"Please, don't. You- you're worth so much more than you know, Mickey. You're my soulmate for fuck's sake. You can't just..." Ian sighed and stared at the wall briefly before looking back at Mickey. "I barely know you, but I know I have never cared about someone more than I do you. So, your safety means a lot to me, and just... I don't know. I need you to stick around, okay?"

Mickey's eyes had fallen to his lap, unable to look at Ian. "Okay, whatever."

A smile flickered across Ian's face, and he reached out to take Mickey's wrist. Mickey looked up at him then, and was so overcome. He didn't think he'd ever be able to look away, nor did he want to. They stayed like that for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes, and Mickey, for the first time in his life, was okay.


	3. Heavy Hitter

**TRIGGER WARNING: hints to canonical-rape/abuse**

Mandy had never been able to master the art of sleeping through anything like the rest of her family. She woke up at anything, every shift and squeak. So when Lip shut her door, her eyes flew wide open. She laid with her back to the door and her body tensed in fear. She sent up silent prayers that it wasn't her father, that it was the early morning and not late at night, that she didn't have to be mistaken for her mom for the fifth time in two weeks, that _please God _it was only one of her brothers. The pitch black curtains that hung in her windows kept out enough light that she couldn't tell what time it was. She shut her eyes and willed herself back to sleep.

"Mandy?" Then for the second time that day, her eyes flew wide. She let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion, and rolled onto her back.

"Hi," she whispered groggily, smiling a sleepy smile. Her hand flew out and shoved down the covers indicating he should join her. He grinned and stripped off his shirt and pants before crawling in with her.

She now turned to mirror him, "Hi," he murmured. "Can I- um," he reached a hand up almost to touch her face, and she placed it against her cheek. They didn't tell you that there were certain things you needed more after meeting your soulmate, like their touch and general closeness. They also didn't tell you that you could pick up on their emotions like they were your own after only a little while.

"Yeah, he wasn't here last night. I'm-" She wanted to say fine, but they both knew that was bullshit. He'd seen her tense when he opened the door, could feel the pain and resignation slowly building before he'd first spoken.

"You thought I was him?" Their voices were hushed in the still air. She nodded slightly.

For once, her guard wasn't coming up. She didn't feel the need to be tough, and act like she was alright. He knew she wasn't, and somehow she was thankful for that. He leaned in and kissed her softly. Then, she whispered, "Can you just hold me, for a little bit?"

She rolled to face away from him, and he pulled her to him gently. They took a deep breath in perfect sync, "Mandy?"

"I was just about to fall asleep, asshole."

He snorted, "Mandy, I had an idea."

"Does it involve staying right here? Because I'd like that," She snuggled back against him, yet her tone remained firm.

"For now, but..." He trailed off and kissed her head to gather up his courage and words, "Move in with me?" He added, speaking into her hair.

He felt the surprise and what he could only describe as relief suddenly emanate from her. "Okay." She whispered.

"Okay." He replied, and smiled inwardly.

She kissed the hand she held in her own, and laid her head back to rest on the pillow.

Mandy hadn't really been able to go back to sleep. It wasn't that she was nervous or scared, at least, not of moving in. She was just surprised, and it was a lot at the moment. So, she stayed awake there for almost half an hour before deciding she should get up instead.

She had wiggled carefully out from under a sound asleep Lip, and now her feet padded almost silently down the hall. She made her way to the bathroom, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards, she didn't want everybody to wake up and ruin everything just yet.

She was close to Mickey's door and the bathroom when she noticed it was already open. He never left his door open. She nearly went to get the hammer when she heard calm voices from inside. Leaning carefully against the frame she tried to listen. Then she wished she hadn't, choking on a gasp, she brought a hand to her mouth.

_Soulmates? What the fuck? Why hadn't he told her? Either of them? _

There was silence for a good five minutes before Ian walked out. They didn't say goodbye, or anything, and Mandy had no warning when he faced her scared and stunned in the hallway. "Mandy... how much did you hear?"

"Enough." She squared her shoulders subtly, but Ian knew her well enough to pick up on it.

"I was going to tell you."

"When?" She snapped, her eyes flaming now.

"Mandy, I don't know what the hell is going on. Neither does he and- well, it's _him_. How am I supposed to tell you that?" His eyes were apologetic and pleading her to just forget it and help him. Mandy understood those were his rock and a hard place eyes, and when she decided she'd glared at him long enough she nodded and rolled her eyes.

"I have to use the bathroom. We'll talk about this later." She pushed the door slightly, but faced him still, "You gonna go home?"

"I guess? Unless you want me to stay. I mean you have Lip, though..." He gestured vaguely toward her door.

She was about to suggest he go, when she remembered the conversation she'd just had, "Stay. At least for a few minutes, Lip's asleep and I need to talk to you about something." She waited for Ian to walk into the kitchen to whirl on her brother. "What the _hell_, Mickey?"

"Mandy, I..." He didn't have a sentence to come after that. All he could think about was Ian and the other universe he'd seemed to be in when he touched him.

"Just tell me how long you've known." She crossed her arms, her face hard.

"Jesus, Mandy, I don't fuckin' know."

She sighed and her look of disappointment was brief but unmistakable. "Okay."

He groaned, and fell back on his bed as the bathroom door shut behind her.

**A/N: Hi, sorry this chapter's so short. I promise the next one will be longer! Hope you like it so far xx**


	4. Ultraviolence

"Lip wants you to move in? With us?" Ian repeated startled.

"Yes, shithead. Weren't you listening?"

"I-uh... okay. Do you want to do that? Are you ready for that?"

Mandy leaned her head onto his shoulder, "I don't know if I'm ready, but..." She raised her head and looked at him. "I want to. It just feels right, ya know? Like when I'm with him things are okay." She smiled and leaned into him once more. "I like feeling okay." She murmured.

It wasn't that people generally thought Ian was gay, but since Mandy started dating Lip openly, people had started to get more suspicious. Unfortunately, those people were mostly from school. And even more unfortunately they were mostly the type of people who would beat up anyone and everyone who could even possibly be gay.

It wasn't the first time Ian had been beat up. It certainly wouldn't be the last. However, it was the first time in the back of the school and it was by far the worst beating he'd received. Five against one wasn't what anyone would call a fair fight and Ian hadn't stood a chance.

When he finally dropped to the ground he couldn't even feel the pain anymore. On some level he knew what was happening, but he couldn't bring himself to fight anymore. He'd tried for at least an hour and gotten in a few punches, but he hadn't scored a quarter of what had been done to him. He heard a nasty crack and knew it was a rib breaking. He felt warm blood running down his face and couldn't see out of one swollen eye. He blocked out their taunting and slurs. He could feel himself shutting down and stared at the ground. Maybe they'd go away soon.

They didn't.

He lay there for about an hour and a half as they kicked and spit and punched before they heard something and ran off. Ian couldn't reach his pocket to get his phone, so he stayed there. He wasn't sure why he hadn't passed out yet. From what he could see of the blood running away from his face, he'd lost a lot.

"Ian?" He heard from behind him. He knew the voice, but he couldn't place it. Suddenly, he was overcome with worry and fear that somehow wasn't his own. "Christ, Ian." He heard and saw shoes move into his vision. He tried to turn his head to look up, but he couldn't move. He groaned instead. "Fuck," the person swore.

He felt himself being gently lifted from the ground, and that's when everything went black.

"Ian? Can you- Ian?" Ian groaned and blinked hard, the whole room was white. "Fiona!" The person next to his bed screamed and ran into the hall. He was pretty sure it was Debbie.

"What the fuck?" Ian managed to say, screwing his eyes shut as if that would shut out the noise.

Footsteps raced into the room. "Oh my _God_!" That voice was Fiona's. "Ian? How do you feel?"

"Everything hurts." He turned his head to the side slightly to see her. She laughed a little and as his eyes focused more he could see she was almost crying. "Fi?"

"You're okay. Sorry, that's all you're okay." She wiped her eyes and brushed his face lightly. A nurse walked in and began checking things as Fiona talked. "Okay, so what the fuck happened?"

"Just..." He trailed off when he saw movement in the corner. "Mickey?" He was flooded with another emotion that he could tell wasn't his own, anxiety. He craned his neck to see the corner of the room where Mickey was sitting in a chair. He was a wreck with a crumpled shirt, mussed hair, and blood-shot eyes.

Fiona blinked in surprise, "Oh, yeah. He brought you home. He was the one who found you."

Mickey rose slowly and crossed the room. "Uh, hey." He shoved his hands in his pockets after he fiddled with them for a second.

"Thanks," Ian smiled in spite of his split lip.

Mickey almost smiled in return, but covered it with a cough instead, "Yeah, sure." He shrugged.

Fiona smirked as she watched them. She waited for them to keep talking and when they didn't she cut in, "Lip, Mandy, Debbie, Carl, and Liam are in the waiting room. Oh, and Kev and V are getting coffee in the cafeteria."

"For fuck's sake," Ian laughed and winced from the pain of his rib, sending Mickey a sideways glance when he jumped forward with his wince. "Well, send 'em in," He said to Fiona.

"Be right back."

Ian waited until she left before he turned to Mickey. "How'd you find me?"

"Uh, well, everything was kinda hurting really fucking bad and well-" He lifted his shirt slightly to reveal deep bruises.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." Ian lifted his hand towards Mickey.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "It's not your fault and trust me, you're a hell of a lot worse."

It was Ian's turn to lift an eyebrow, though he smirked a little when he did, "You looked under my shirt?"

Mickey scoffed, "Fuck off, Gallagher."

Ian laughed and smiled at Mickey as his room was flooded with his family, some fawning over him, some, namely Carl, asking to see his scars, and some just telling him he was an idiot but on the verge of tears.

Sunday morning, two days later, Ian was released and doing much better. Sunday evening as Ian lay in bed a warm, safe feeling spread across his chest, followed by nervousness, and that's when Mickey Milkovich knocked on his open bedroom door.

"Hey," Ian slowly sat up and leaned back against the wall. "Why are you..."

"Mandy told me you were out of the hospital so... I actually don't know why I'm here. I should go."

"Woah, wait!" Ian called. Mickey turned to face him, wringing his gloves in his hands. "I'm not- uh- wearing pants, but you can come sit." He gestured to the end of the bed. A soft blush spread across Mickey's cheeks at Ian's last statement and Ian had felt a slight arousal prick the air. He was starting to realise that the emotions he was picking up were Mickey's and he was definitely okay with that.

Mickey shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the dresser before sitting on the edge of Ian's bed, as far away as possible. "How are you feeling?" He said quietly, not quite able to meet Ian's eyes.

"I'm pretty good. Probably be at school tomorrow." He looked at Mickey for a moment before continuing. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

Mickey met his gaze looking startled. "What? Nah, I'm fine. It's just pay back for all those fuckin' years you got hurt 'cause of me."

Ian chuckled, "Yeah, I guess." He dropped his eyes as he added quieter, "I don't mind. I wouldn't want a different soulmate."

Ian felt waves of happiness and insecurity rolling off of Mickey as silence filled the air. "Who-" Mickey cleared his throat, "Who did this to you?"

"Just Evan Chase and his gang of dickheads," Ian rolled his eyes, "It really isn't a big deal."

"Like hell it isn't," Mickey shot back his voice rising. Ian almost smiled as he lifted his head. "I'll beat the shit outta that fucker."

"Mickey! No. It's fine." Ian leaned forward to place a hand on his arm. "I'm okay now, and he's just an idiot."

Mickey studied his face briefly before lifting Ian's hand from his arm. "I gotta go." And suddenly he was rushing out of the room.

Ian sighed deeply and fell slowly back onto his pillow. "What the fuck?"


	5. Guns and Roses

He didn't care. He _doesn't _care. This isn't his problem.

That's all Mickey could repeat to himself as he walked home from Ian's. He knew it was bullshit, of course he cared. Ian was the first person since Mandy to care about him. No one cares about him, but maybe if he thought it enough times he could convince himself of it.

Probably not.

Fuck that kid.

* * *

Lying on his bed with an icepack on his ribs wasn't unusual for Ian. In fact, it was pretty routine, but today was the first day Lip seemed to take interest in 8 years.

"Yours?" He mumbled around the cigarette he'd just lit.

"Nah, my fuckin' soulmate's an idiot."

Lip pushed off of the doorway he'd been leaning on and made his way over to sit on the desk at the end of Ian's bed. "Ah," he nodded and took a slow drag from his cigarette before continuing, "How often have you been hanging out with him?"

Ian wondered what that had to do with anything, but answered anyways, "Um, not too much. Why?"

Lip hopped off the desk and faced Ian, "Just the more you hang out with 'em the more it hurts. Trust me." Ian chuckled. "Mandy gives me bruises all the time. She really needs to control her temper."

At _that_, though, Ian outright laughed, "Yeah? Well, she sure doesn't appreciate your affinity for violence either. And I'd appreciate it if you stopped hurting my girlfriend."

Lip raised his eyebrows. "I'd appreciate it if she stopped hurting me, too."

"Truly a match made in heaven."

Lip snorted, "Literally."

"_Holy shit!_" Fiona yelled from downstairs. The crash of pan following close behind. Ian and Lip exchanged a quick glance before running to the kitchen, bruised ribs forgotten.

"Fiona!" They said in unison when they reached her.

"What the _fuck_, Jimmy!" She turned to reveal a nearly broken pinky.

Ian handed her his icepack.

"Asshole," she sighed as she placed it against her finger.

When she finally looked at them, Ian could barely contain his laughter. Soon, Fiona and Lip followed. The three of them stood in the kitchen bruised and laughing hysterically, probably looking insane. Once they quieted down, Fiona hugged her brothers, "Why did we get these people for soulmates?"

"We're Gallaghers," Lip said, "Is that even a question?" Fiona and Ian nodded, and she walked over to find paper towels. Suddenly, Lip looked toward the door and jogged up the stairs.

Fiona scoffed and opened her mouth to speak when she was cut off by the door being flung open.

"Ian!" Mandy shouted as she practically ran inside, tossing scarf and jacket in the general direction of the coat hooks. "Evan-"

"Mandy, I know you live here now, but that doesn't mean you can be as much of a tornado as the kids." Fiona said over her shoulder while she looked for Liam's snacks.

"Oh! Right." Mandy spun around and hung up her jacket. "Okay, did you hear what happened to Evan Chase and those idiots that beat you up?"

"Uh, no."

"Some kid totally whooped their asses. I think one of them's in the hospital." Her face shone with excitement at the morbid news.

"Holy shit. When?" Ian would be lying if he said he wasn't happy at all, but he certainly wasn't as delighted as Mandy.

"I don't know some time after school yesterday." She grabbed an apple just before Carl could get it.

"Hey!" He jumped trying to get the apple from the hand she'd stretched high above her head.

"Fight ya for it." She smirked and Carl smiled.

"Alright."

She raced into the living room and Carl was after her in a flash. Ian just shook his head and watched them from the kitchen. Lip descended the stairs once again and looked around. "Mandy here?"

"Living room." Ian answered. "She's fighting Carl for an apple."

"Fuck. Mandy!" He yelled poking at a bruise already blooming on his arm.

"Is that a different shirt?" Fiona smiled, raising an eyebrow.

Lip shot her a quick glare before racing to break up the fight that would inevitably end in sizable injuries for both parties, and Lip.

"I'd have Veronica look at that if I were you, Fi." Ian offered as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his coat. "I'll be back later."

He barely heard Fiona call out a "Where" before he closed the door and jogged up the street. He could feel the cold seeping through his jacket, the familiar burn of the cold air in his lungs. He rubbed his hands together as he walked careful to not put too much pressure on the bruises on his knuckles.

Mickey had definitely gotten in a fight and he was going to find out who with.

* * *

It was easy to tell when your soulmate was near after a while. You could sense them. There's a pull deep inside of you that draws you to them -that always wants you to be near them if they are near.

That's why Mickey suddenly woke up from where he'd been dozing on the couch, and stared at the front door, anxiety increasing with each passing second. He debated just opening the door and getting it over with, but before he had the chance to Ian was knocking. Mickey sat for a moment longer, trying to collect himself and breathe normally. He refused to be rattled by some kid.

But those plans were out the door the second it was opened. The breath flew from Mickey's lungs at the sight of Ian's face. It was like he'd gotten more beautiful overnight, if that was even possible. He felt the warm feeling of Ian's presence and that Ian was feeling towards him. And he soaked it in.

Then, he realised Ian was freezing and was most likely there to talk. "You, uh, you wanna come in?" Mickey asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

"Yeah." Ian smiled as he walked past Mickey and into the house. "Terry home?"

"Uh, no." Mickey said, rubbing his lip. "Just me." Ian nodded and let out a short breath.

The next thing Mickey knew Ian's lips were on his. His eyes flew wide but soon fluttered shut as he relaxed into that perfect moment. There's really no way Mickey could explain the calm and safety that seemed to fall around them the moment their lips met, or the way the rest of the world just fell away, or how he felt like he'd been doing this his whole life, like he was made to kiss Ian. All he knows is that his skin burned where Ian's hands held him and his cheeks flushed. Then, he grasped at Ian's jacket and kissed back, and tried to describe every ounce of feeling he could without speaking at all.


	6. Body Electric

When they finally parted after what seemed like both an eternity and not long enough, there was no concealing the joy Ian was practically radiating-literally radiating if you were Mickey. Except Mickey wasn't exactly focused on the joy; he was caught in a daze that often comes with finding solace and mutual attraction in one's soulmate. He licked his lips and as he slowly came back to reality he reveled in the happiness he felt from Ian, finding comfort in the fact that he felt the same way.

Ian smiled down at him, his hands still lightly holding Mickey's neck. "Uh, wow." He said in a voice barely above a whisper, feeling as if he shouldn't speak any louder for fear of ruining the moment.

"Yeah," Mickey agreed. A smirk played at his lips and he moved his hips against Ian's. "So, uh, did you come here just to do that or," he paused to press harder, "was there something you wanted to say?"

Ian bit his lip, holding back a groan, "Nah, I think I wanna do this."

Mickey nodded. He had never been more pleased with seven words in his life. He rose up to kiss Ian again and found it was even better the second time around. He also found that kissing your soulmate was definitely not as overrated as he had thought it to be. He pulled Ian closer, wanting, _needing_ to have more of him. He needed all of him and more. And sensing every one of Ian's emotions only made it better. He felt the content relaxing and excitement building; as it doubled his own it only made the kiss more intense.

Ian moved his leg between Mickey's and they were gone. The small noises that spilled from Mickey's lips into Ian's mouth were driving him wild and from what he could tell Mickey was definitely enjoying the pressure. He ground harder and harder on Ian's leg as the tension built and he tugged at Ian's jacket roughly. When it was gone he started to explore as much of Ian's torso as he could with his shirt still on and finding that he was not satisfied with just that. The shirt was torn off as well.

Ian chuckled softly at his enthusiasm and used the opportunity of them being apart to yank at Mickey's shirt. "I'm going. I'm going." Mickey huffed before practically throwing himself at Ian forcing him back farther into the living room. They stumbled around the coffee table and trash that littered the floor, no doubt a result of Terry's drunken tirades. Ian smiled as Mickey pushed him back onto the couch, following closely as he climbed into Ian's lap.

"I didn't realise you were gonna be so aggressive." Ian mumbled causing Mickey to pull away briefly and raise a condescending eyebrow. He then dove back to place several pretty impressive hickies across Ian's collar bone. "Yeah, yeah..." Ian replied, sucking in a sharp breath when Mickey bit at his pulse point. Ian ran his hands across Mickey's back and into his hair, tugging at it when he bit too hard or he thought the mark would be too bright. He groaned as Mickey nipped his ear lobe and then pulled it into his mouth. He was finding all of Ian's _places_ and he was totally not complaining. Ian squeezed at Mickey's ass lightly as Mickey sucked just behind his ear abandoning it only to whisper, "Just how far you want to take this?"

He sat back from where he'd been teasing Ian with only the lightest movement against his crotch to look at him. "I-" Ian paused and took a breath as he tried to recover from the state Mickey had worked him into, but before he could answer Mickey spoke.

"Because I'm willing to go all the way... that is if you want to."

Ian held his gaze for a moment then just replied, "Hell yeah."

Mickey nodded and things were back on in full swing. And this time when Mickey came back to kiss him Ian took control. He kissed back deeply and held Mickey's hips as he rolled his own up into them, once again pulling those sweet groans from the smaller boy. He smirked and moved his hands to wrap around Mickey's back as he rolled him to lie on the couch-Ian on top of him.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, uh?" Mickey growled while Ian's only reply was his hands on Mickey's belt and his teeth scraping the older boy's jaw. When Ian finally undid his and Mickey's pants, he could see the bruises slowly beginning to form on Mickey's chest and he was loving it.

Ian stood to give Mickey more room to completely remove his pants and to do the same. Now, it wasn't that Mickey had expected Ian to be small. He had thought-not that he had really thought about it, but if he had-quite the contrary. But he had never imagined that Ian would be quite this big. "Oh, yeah..." Mickey whispers before he can stop himself, instantly regretting it upon seeing the surprised and happy smirk that crosses Ian's face. "Shut up." Mickey glared back halfheartedly.

Ian just laughed, "Lube?" It was Mickey's turn to smirk as he reached under the coffee table and pulled a small bottle from where it was taped. Ian raised an eyebrow, "Handy."

"Don't ask me. It's Mandy's." Mickey shrugged. He reached for Ian's arm, "C'mon, firecrotch, ya gonna keep me waiting all day?"

"Way to go, Lip." Ian mumbled to himself as he let Mickey pull him on top once more. He leaned up to kiss Mickey and took the lube from his hand. He bit the brunet's lip softly before popping the cap off. He spread the lube across a few fingers and slowly reached down, pretty much just now realising what was happening: He was about to fuck, _Mickey_ _Milkovich_. He pushed his index finger in slowly, careful to find out what Mickey liked and didn't like. Thank, God for the added benefit of sensing his emotions.

Mickey sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. He'd done this a few times before himself and once or twice with other guys, but it had never felt like _this_. This was so heady and he could _feel everything_. It was the best thing he'd ever experienced. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like when they actually had sex.

Ian slid his finger in and out a few times and when he felt Mickey relax more he pushed in a second. Mickey bit his lip and groaned quietly. Ian loved every second of it. He scissored his fingers a few times and eventually added a third, and goddamn he was glad he did. Mickey's back arched ever-so-slightly and he was rewarded with a loud, throaty moan.

"Fuck." Ian whispered and moved up to kiss him, inadvertently hitting that sweet spot inside of the smaller boy that brought stars to burst behind his eyelids. Inside Ian cheered and he continued to rub at that spot, twisting his fingers just so to make Mickey cry out and clutch his shoulders. Ian continued with this for a little longer relishing Mickey's incoherence and the way he was coming apart beneath him.

Between heavy pants Mickey got out a, "_Please_." catching Ian off-guard. "I- fuck, oh, do that again. _Shit_. I need- fuck, _Ian_. Just fuck me."

Ian smiled inwardly and slowly removed his fingers. Mickey nearly whimpered at the loss, already feeling empty and incomplete. He sighed and took a moment to collect his breath as Ian spread lube over his now aching cock. He leaned up to position himself right above Mickey and align at his hole. "Wait," Mickey said quickly and Ian looked up to him in surprise, "no way you're fuckin' me without a condom, asshole."

"Mick," Mickey didn't say anything, but Ian could tell he liked the nickname as much as Ian had when Mickey called him 'Ian,' "we're soulmates we don't have to worry about that stuff. If you were a girl it'd be different 'cause ya know you could get pregnant, but we're okay... Jesus, where were you during Sex Ed.?"

"Probably getting high under the bleachers, or robbing a grocery store, I don't fucking know. Okay, we're good. Now, you wanna chit-chat or you wanna get on me?" He grinned and got that twinkle in his eye that Ian had always found so intriguing.

"I'm already on you, Mick." He snarked back, just to be that guy.

"Jesus, fuck, Ian, I swear-" Ian never did get to hear the end of that sentence because all words were forgotten when he was finally pushing into him. Ian went slowly for fear of hurting Mickey, but he could tell he wasn't-he could also sense the undercurrent of impatience under the ecstasy.

When he finally made it all the way in Ian _knew_. There was no way this _didn't _make sense. Everything and everyone was right where they should be. Mickey held tighter to Ian, even digging his nails into his shoulder blades, for fear of the fact that letting go even a little bit might mean that he would lose Ian. That is something he simply could not stand. Ian being with him and especially being inside him was where they should be. For the first time in their lives, all of the pieces were in place.

Ian barely registered Mickey saying something about move because he couldn't get over how wonderful things looked right at that moment. Mickey had wrapped a leg around his waist and drew him in deeper. Ian hissed and carefully began to move. He still didn't want to lose that picture: Mickey's face screwed up tight in a mixture of pleasure and slow burning, the light hitting his skin to highlight every one of Mickey's beautiful scars and muscles, the way Mickey was breathing so close to him and the way it was all so perfect for no and every reason.

Gradually, Ian picked up the pace of his thrusts. Mickey was surprisingly demanding, giving 'power bottom' a whole new meaning. He made sure Ian knew what he liked and didn't like even though he could already tell through the bond they shared.

It wasn't long before Mickey had both legs wrapped tight around Ian's waist to hold him as he pounded. Mickey clawed and scratched at Ian's back and tugged his hair, but he didn't mind. He loved the way Mickey was moaning and whispering sweet nothings. He could feel everything between them and was only making things more intense for the both of them. The relentless driving into him especially when Ian hit his prostate, combined with the younger boy's own pleasure was nearly enough to send Mickey over the edge.

"I'm almost- almost- Fuck, Ian! Right there! So close." Ian gripped harder with the hand on Mickey's hip and kissed him quickly.

"C'mon, come for me, baby." He murmured quiet into the hard breaths they shared between them.

That was enough to make Mickey lose it. Ian brought his hand from his hip to Mickey's cock keeping him going through the last part of his orgasm, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure. And feeling Mickey so caught up in it all, Ian thrust twice more hard and deep before he was spent.

He leaned his forehead against his soulmate's, savouring the unadulterated bliss. He brushed his lips against Mickey's once more in a chaste kiss and Mickey smiled leisurely. Kissing Ian was like coming home.


	7. Flipside

The thump of feet on the steps outside the Milkovich house dragged Mickey and Ian from their reverie. A few voices were muffled by the door as the two raced to find their clothes and dress again. Ian was the first to be successfully clothed, so he lunged for the TV remote in an attempt to cover-up what they'd just finished doing not ten minutes ago. Mickey followed close behind, zipping up his jeans, and falling onto the couch just as the front door swung open.

"Hey, shithead." Mandy said as she walked past the couch into the kitchen. The two on the couch sat completely still, barely even breathing. Mickey fidgeted and Ian twisted his fingers while he tried to figure out what the fuck kind of channel he had turned on. They sat in silence as Mandy rustled bottles and cans in the fridge and programmed the microwave. "So, I was thinking about what you said yesterday," Mandy called over her shoulder, "asking if I thought Ian likes you. And well, considering the fact that you're head over heels, butt-crazy in lo-" Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey who was doing everything he could not to look at the boy in question. Only then did Mandy notice the other boy sitting in the living room.

"Ian?" She said. Mickey bit his lip.

"Uh, hi."

She walked slowly back to where the two boys were sitting. "Why're you here?"

"Mickey and I were gonna watch this thing we wanted to see." He lifted his hand in the general direction of the television.

Mandy studied it briefly, "You came over because you both wanted to watch _Cooking and Crafting with Sally_ _O'Hara_?" She didn't speak for a moment she simply stared at Ian, refusing to break eye-contact. He nodded and her expression seemed to cloud with even more disbelief. Then suddenly, it dawned on her. "Oh, my God..."

Mickey's eyes widened and Mandy smiled, "You two fucked!"

"No! Shut up, Amanda!" Mickey yelled desperately.

"Shove it, Michael! You so did!"

And as if things couldn't get any worse for Ian, Lip opened the front door. "Babe?"

"In here." Mandy answered.

"We're gonna be- Ian?" Lip frowned, "Why're-"

Mickey's head fell into his hands. "Jesus Christ..."

"Mickey and Ian fucked!" Mandy chimed.

"What?" Lip grinned. "Congrats, man!"

Ian glared at them. What a way to ruin a perfect moment.

Lip and Mandy left soon thereafter and with Mickey not being able to come within 10 feet of Ian anymore, Ian decided to leave. Mickey had nodded at him on his way out and Ian was content with that. He knew it meant so much more.

Walking, running, jogging, Ian had always loved to be out in the air, feet hitting the pavement, alone with the world and his thoughts. It had all started as his little kid obsession with being like his totally cool, big sister, but as the years had gone by and he'd grown up, it had become his own. Fiona stopped running as often and he kept it up. It was the only time he really got to figure things out. He was out of the chaos of his house and he could just run things out.

It was no surprise that walking helped him think through what had happened with Mickey. It had been so incredible. He'd never felt anything like it; he just wanted to do it again and again and never let him go. It was hard to think about how much it hurt when Mickey had kept his distance from him.

When he couldn't take it anymore Ian finally called Mandy. She was with Lip and she had that distracted air in her voice. She really did care about what Ian was saying he knew, but when you're with your soulmate and you're that close it's really like a drug, not really in a bad way, but in a can't-focus-giggly-happy way. Ian hung up and chose to call back later, or just find her at home.

Ian had walked for what felt like hours and every time he looked up he saw the Milkovich house. He kept unconsciously walking in that direction. It was maddening. He desperately wanted to know what Mickey was thinking, if he felt the same way, if what Mandy had begun to say in the kitchen earlier was true.

_Asshole_. He thought. _What the fuck was I thinking? Mickey Milkovich? Mandy's just wrong. She must've misinterpreted something he said_. _This could never work. Why did I think it could? _

He felt his foot kick something. He momentarily forgot about it all to look at what he'd hit. In the road at his feet lay a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and just next to it was a jug of orange juice. The liquids had spilled out and mixed together on the street, Ian didn't believe in fate, or chance, or any of that, really. But, just this once, he smirked and silently thanked whatever was out there for sending him a sign. _Yes, Mickey Milkovich, dummy. Of _course_, Mickey Milkovich_. _Who else?_


	8. Shades of Cool

It had been days since Ian had last seen Mickey, and it was beginning to feel like torture. Even the time Ian had been beaten didn't hurt as bad as this. This pain went deep, so much deeper than a bruise or a fracture. This pain shook him to his core. It was stabbing and it was aching at the same time. Ian tried to block it out, to distract himself, to push it down, but he couldn't shake it.

He wondered every once and a while if Mickey felt the same way. If this was killing him the way it was Ian. Probably not. Mickey was the one ducking his calls after all. Ian had even thought he saw him at one point, but when he looked again there was no one. It didn't matter, though, because Ian still saw Mickey in everything. The shadow of him followed Ian like a weight he couldn't drop.

It didn't help of course that Mandy wouldn't talk about that morning in the kitchen. Every time Ian asked her about what she'd said, she changed the subject. Today, however, he wasn't going to let that happen.

"Mandy!" Ian called as he heard her walking past his room. The floorboards creaked in hesitation. He could tell she was debating making a run for the stairs. He turned around in his chair. "Mandy, please." He said softer this time, standing and walking to the door of his room.

"Hey," she smiled as he came into view, "look I-"

He shook his head. "No, Mandy, I just need to know one thing." She looked strained and he knew she didn't want to talk about this. "Mands, it's killing me. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep living every day like this. He's all I can think about. He's everywhere and not knowing is driving me insane. You have to understand. You have to know what that feels like. Being away from him is like not being able to breathe. What if Lip was avoiding you? Can you imagine how much that would hurt?" He sighed and his gaze fell to his shoes. "I just need to know if what you said that morning was true. I need to know that this isn't just me. I need to know if my fucking soulmate even likes me. God, my _soulmate_ won't talk to me. Fuck, Mandy. I just don't get it. It doesn't... Fuck, I don't know." He leaned heavily against the door-frame. His whole body felt heavy. The tears pricked his eyes and he tried desperately to hold them back. "He's supposed to be it. He's supposed to be the one and he won't even return my calls."

"Yes." The word spilled out so suddenly even Mandy looked surprised. Ian's head shot up and she nodded. "Yes, of course he does. He loves you. He loves you, Ian. I don't know what to tell you. I don't know why he's being this way. I'm so sorry." She pulled him in to hug her. "I'm so sorry my brother is such a shit-head. He told me he loved you. It just slipped out one day and he made me promise to never tell."

Ian pulled away from her, and she looked at him confused. "Wh-why, why would- fuck. I need to be alone, okay? I just need to be alone."

"Yeah." She smiled half-heartedly, concern steadily growing. The look he had in his eyes was one she had never seen on him before. He looked so empty and raw. He didn't look like Ian.

"Fiona, I'm telling you it's-it's- I've never seen him like this before. I thought he was just upset and he'd get up eventually, but- Fi, I'm scared." Mandy stood facing Fiona in the kitchen, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "I keep putting food by him, but he won't respond. Debs, Carl, Lip, hell even Liam, we've all tried and he-he just lies there."

Fiona blew out a long breath, and leaned heavily on the counter. Mandy could see each word piling up in her mind. She was just as frightened as she was. This was bad. A long silence passed as Fiona tried to collect her thoughts, "What about Mickey?"

"What?"

"Mickey. Has he tried talking to him?"

Mandy shook her head. "No, that's what started all this. He won't talk to Ian. I think he's scared, but not about this. He doesn't know about this yet. I wanted to wait until you got home, but you were gone for so long."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. V and Kev needed me for a bit and then Jimmy came back and I've been with him working things out."

"You're here now." At the sound of Lip's voice, Mandy and Fiona both turned. He descended the last few stairs and looked at Fiona sternly, "It's bad, Fi."

"Like Mom?" She whispered, visibly holding her breath for the response.

Lip nodded. Fiona raised a hand to her mouth, "Fuck." She ran the hand through her hair and tightened her ponytail. "Okay, we can get through this. Okay?" She looked at Mandy and Lip. "Okay? We can do this."

They nodded. Mandy grasped Lip's hand tightly. Fiona took a deep breath and started to walk up to the boy's room. Adding over her shoulder as she ran up, "Get Mickey."


	9. The Blackest Day

Mickey was sitting on the couch watching who knows what. He hadn't really been paying attention for the past hour anyways. All he could think about these days was Ian. God, he was so stupid. He never should have told Mandy he was feeling that way. He never should have felt that way in the first place. If there was one thing that you learned as a Milkovich it was not to love anything or anyone. It only gets you hurt and leaves you vulnerable. There was no greater crime in his family than being vulnerable.

He looked away from the television suddenly when a loud bang shook the wall of the house. It was the door closing as Mandy stood in the hallway shaking. Mickey quickly leapt from the couch to hold his sister. "Mandy, what's wrong? What happened? Was it Lip? I'll kill him."

She grabbed his arm as he began to pull away from her to find the person who'd done this. "No!" She took a shaky breath. "No, it wasn't Lip. It's..." She stepped back to look Mickey in the face. "It's Ian."

Mickey felt his heart drop into his stomach. The dread was all-consuming. He couldn't speak to ask what had happened, but thankfully, he didn't need to.

"He's in a really bad place, Mick. He won't get out of bed. He won't respond to anyone. It's been _days_. He won't even eat. Everybody's tried to talk to him, get him to get up, but he just won't move. He-he looks dead, Mickey." With that, she started crying again, even harder this time. She let her head fall against Mickey's chest, and he absentmindedly wrapped his arms around her. He couldn't think straight.

_Days? _Mickey's head started to hurt. It was probably because he had barely been breathing since Mandy said Ian's name. "I-what..." He tried to think of anything to say. "What can I do?" He felt himself saying. It was scary, but it felt right. He needed to do _something_.

"Talk to him," Mandy held Mickey's hand as he began to pull away a second time. "Mick, I know it's scary. _I know_. But, you have to do it. He won't listen to anyone else. Everyone has tried and I know being in love is scary. Hell, it's terrifying. But he is your soulmate, Mickey. Whether you wanted it to happen or not, that is how it is and right now, _you _are what can help him. _You_ are the one who he loves and who can save him." She searched his face earnestly. He knew she was right. He knew had the situation been reversed only Ian could help him probably. "You love him, Mickey. When you love someone you help them, no matter what."

Each passing day only served to scare Fiona more. Why had she spent all that time with Jimmy? If only she'd been there, if only she'd known that Ian was upset in the first place, none of this would have happened. Or, maybe it would have. With her mom, it didn't matter what was happening or who tried to help. You just had to hope. Hope and pray that everything ended up okay. When Mickey came to the house, Mandy close at his heels, Fiona began to hope. And when Mickey remained upstairs with Ian for several hours, Fiona began to pray. She wasn't sure that she could go through this again. She wasn't sure that any of them could have this happen again and come out on the other side unchanged.

Mandy had spent a little while upstairs with Lip. They had both just lain in bed, not speaking. The sense of fear was too strong to speak about anything else. Eventually she couldn't take the weight anymore and went downstairs to try to distract herself. It hadn't worked really. She ended up sitting on the couch with Liam watching whatever kids' show Debbie had put on for him. His sweet innocence was enough to soothe her slightly. He was the only one in the house who wasn't scared. He didn't know enough to be and somehow that was comforting. At least someone would be alright if Mickey couldn't help. Someone would be okay.

Mandy's absence from his bed wasn't unnoticed, but it didn't bother Lip that much either. She would come back later. Right now he knew they both needed some time alone. The house was so quiet. It was never this quiet. Except for when he was younger and Monica was having these problems. He didn't want to think about that now. Ian was not Monica. Ian was strong and smart and he would be okay. He wouldn't end up like Monica. Lip shook his head and moved to reach his cigarettes. With the first drag, he began to feel a little better. He shut his eyes and focused on the feel of the nicotine and the smoke in his lungs. Mandy reappeared a little later. Lip couldn't remember when exactly she'd come back but he knew he felt better with her there. They shared the cigarette, watching as the smoke rose to the ceiling taking a bit of their fear with it. Ian is strong. Ian is not Monica. Lip hadn't realized he'd been speaking until Mandy ran a hand along his arm, "Yeah."

Seeing Ian like this was even harder than hearing about it. Mickey wasn't sure he could feel his fingers. There had just been silence between them for a while. Dead air hung heavily around them and Mickey felt it stronger with each breath. He didn't know what to say. There was no way he was the person who could do this. He couldn't be the one. Only one thought ran through his head, it built and built until Mickey felt he might burst if he didn't say it. _I love you._ He thought. _I love you. I love you_. _I love you. _

He moved to stand by Ian's bed, knowing only that Ian needed to know how important he is. "You remember when you found my-I mean, our scars?" His voice was so quiet. Speaking at any level above a murmur felt wrong, like Ian was a deer he didn't want to frighten away. "You came into my room so early." He laughed a little to himself. "_So_ early. It scared me. Not just because there was someone in my room at 6 am but because that was the first time I felt you. That was the first time I was able to know what you were feeling. It was so powerful. I thought I was going to choke from how strongly you were feeling and you-you _needed_ me. You needed me with your whole being. I've never been needed before. You held my hand and everything faded away. I could have lived in that one moment forever. And that's... that's when I first knew I loved you." He paused briefly; he'd laid it all on the line. "I love you, Ian. I love you with everything I have. You're my soulmate and not only do I love you but I need you more than anything. I need you more than air." His breath caught in his throat following his admission.

He watched the rise and fall of Ian's ribs as he faced the wall. After what felt like an eternity, Ian slowly rolled to face Mickey. He sat up and leant against the wall. Mickey took a half-step closer, his knees brushing the bed. There was a pull, as if by a string knotted in his stomach that Ian held, a pull that brought him closer to Ian whenever he was near. The silence between them gathered like a stone in Mickey's gut. "You love me?"

Ian looked at Mickey for a long time, sizing him up. "Of course I do," Mickey's voice cracked as he said it. Tears he didn't know he was holding in gathered in his eyes. Ian smiled. It was so bright Mickey was overcome.

"I love you, too." For the first time, Mickey did not doubt that. He couldn't when he knew it was true. He could feel it in his bones. He loved his soulmate and his soulmate loved him too. Neither of them was sure who leaned forward first but suddenly they were kissing. A kiss so pure and genuine, Mickey was not afraid to let the tears fall. Ian brushed his thumb across Mickey's cheek, wiping away the tears.

Somehow, they ended up lying together on the bed, exchanging kisses between smiles. Nearly an hour had passed when the smile left Mickey's face. Ian looked at him curiously, "What's wrong?"

Mickey kissed the corner of Ian's frowning mouth. "We need to find you help." Ian sighed. "I know that's not what you want to hear, but..."

"No, I know." Ian sat up. "You have to come with me, though." It was Ian's turn now to cry. "I can't do this myself, Mick."

Mickey rose to sit beside him. Wrapping his arm around Ian's broad shoulders, he turned to kiss Ian's shoulder. "I know. I will be there every step of the way." He reached out to turn Ian's head towards him. "Hey, I won't leave again, alright? I promise." Ian nodded and he kissed the red-haired boy with as much passion as he could muster. "I promise."


End file.
